Most folks have heard at some point that little boys are made of snakes, snails and puppy dog tails.

Little girls are made of sugar and spice, and everything nice. And of course as we age that spice takes over and seasons the everything nice into stuff that often is NOT so nice, strutting around in high heels. But is another post for another time.

We have a wonderful little Yorkie in the palace, Penny. She is my daughter’s first dog, who cannot live in harmony with the daughter’s boyfriend’s canine. This is really not a shocker, as little chubby Penny has a bit of a Princess complex, only it is the negative side of said complex. Honestly she is a bit of a crotchety old dog, at 10 years and a few months, but only when it comes to other dogs being in ‘her’ pack. One of the cats, on the other hand, the palace feline princess, is a bully and bosses the dog around. We have no ‘puppy dog tails’, as it is more of a stump, because they clip Yorkie’s ears and tails. But for all intents and purposes, in addition to boys who are made up of such lovely stuff, we have the puppy dog tail part covered.

When it comes to snails, yes we have those. Outside. Where they belong. Well they are slugs, which my very unscientific brain believes are homeless snails, as in minus a shell. I nearly stepped on a large, slimy slug one morning last week when I took Penny out to send her first, 5am pee-mail. I saw it moving on the sidewalk and bent down to see what it was, as without my glasses on in the morning I have to get kind of up close and personal with the world around me to bring it into focus. So, snails and puppy dog tails. And a bunch of cat fur that is shed now and then too, throughout the palace. Thankfully there is this dandy device known as a vacuum cleaner for that issue.

Which brings us to snakes. There are few things in this world that will cause me to be completely paralyzed with fear, and snakes would be one of those things. I HATE SNAKES! I do not care if they don’t bite, aren’t poisonous, and eat rodents. I HATE SNAKES!! My son, the cop, who is afraid of tiny tan house spiders, at least will run screaming and naked from the shower if he encounters his 8 legged fear. When I come across a snake I freeze, cannot move, and if I found one in the shower with me I’d just drop dead of a heart attack, end of story.

At 5am today, Penny was doing her potty dance and adding a slight whimper to it from her crate in our room. This nixed the idea of “just 10 more minutes” with a touch of the snooze alarm. Whimpers generally mean “if you don’t get out of that bed, woman, there will be nasty, runny puppy poop to clean up and it will be no one’s fault but your own!” This I know from the not too distant past (see Over Night Notes To Self for more information). I got up, got the dog and headed downstairs. I picked up her leash and she wouldn’t come to me, seemed she was thirsty. So much for urgency. When she finally had emptied the water bowl, as the cats looked on with great concern (they always worry no one will refill it), I hooked the leash to her collar and we walked out of the front door. I did not have my glasses on, so what I first thought I was seeing laying on the sidewalk, was a large stick, or the neighbor’s ivy type plant had grown a rather long off-shoot across the concrete. I got to the edge of the porch and started to step down, getting up close and personal and HOLY CRAP THAT IS A FREAKING SNAKE!!!!!! I backed up very fast, to the door. Penny, is looking at me oddly and trying to go forward.

I am now standing, frozen on the porch, trying to decide what to do. I could go through the garage and let the dog go out that way, but what if when I move it goes down by the garage door and enters? ARGH!!!!!! The dog is starting to pull on the leash, she has business at the other end of the sidewalk and I’m holding up progress. I’m worried that as she passes over it, the snake is going to whip around and bit the dog. And of course from the size of the snake in my imagination, it is going to swallow my poor little Yorkie whole. But she is pulling harder, so I give her some leash to work with as she heads right toward the monster on the walkway. I decide that perhaps I am sacrificing the dog, but then it could be fore the greater good. That of course being that the snake would eat the pup then move on somewhere to hang out for a few weeks while it digests Penny. I’m sure my daughter could understand that, right?

Penny stopped and sniffed the tail of the snake then stepped over it and kept going. I gave her all the leash that I could, hoping she would just go in the mulch and come back to the porch, like she does when it is pouring down rain. But NO, she is tugging at it and looking at me like “it’s now or I am dropping this mess on your sidewalk”. It dawns on me then that the snake had not moved. So, I bravely, on jello legs lean out and have another look and realize it is just a long skin. But what if the snake is not done shedding it yet? EEEEEK now what? I decided I had to get the dog to the other end of the sidewalk so she could send her pee-mail and poo in the grass. I did a graceful, ballerina style leap over the snake skin, (okay it no doubt looked like a rhino, sporting pink/blue/purple plaid & a pink, Hello Kitty shirt, trying to jump an obstacle) and then ran down the sidewalk sure it was in hot pursuit. Puppy did her business and we headed back up the path to the door. With goosebumps the size of grapes, I timed my next impressive jump so that I was going over the dog and the snake skin, in case the snake was there, the dog would be the closer target. Sorry, I know, but again, the whole greater good thing, after all the dog cannot cook or do laundry. I had to save myself!

Before I left for the office I found a long broom stick and went outside to lift the skin off the walkway. It was at this time that I happened to see just how long (3 ft) this thing was, and the face was looking up at me from the ornamental grasses by the downspout. It was empty but it sure looked the part, even with my glasses on.

Now, as I end this, let me mention that before I went to bed last night I was reading Harry Potter And The Goblet Of Fire, the part at the end of the TriWizard Tournament. You know, where he bumps into my ex-husband Lord Voldemort in the grave yard? And old you-know-who has that big old snake with him, which made my skin crawl thinking about it before I went to sleep. Before you think this is a figment of my imagination inspired by too much Valerian root in my before bedtime tea, I took a picture of it after I brought the dog inside.

Before anyone panics, this is NOT a post about flatulence, at least not the bodily function. It is more just an out pouring of what is rolling around in my brain of late. Which, by the way, can be every bit as frightening to open up for a peek inside as what one will encounter after someone has farted in the shower. Some days, equally offensive, no doubt about it.

And heck, we all know with a title like “Farting In The Shower”, more than a few of you high tailed it on over here to read this post because you simply couldn’t resist….sickos!

Did you have one of those weekends that just took it’s time going by? I love those! Time did NOT fly when I was having a great time and I’m so thankful for that. I spent all day Saturday (close to 13 hours) with my friend who shall be known as the Teddy Bear. Make no mistake, within that adorable, teddy bear exterior there is a grizzly bear. But unless absolutely necessary, he is a gentle giant. We met some years ago on a dating site and a friendship began. We’ve been trying to get together but schedules were being most uncooperative until this past weekend. But that is another post, it was too nice a time to fall in under a blog post title containing the word “Fart”.

Could someone please tell me what the fascination is with the show, “Duck Dynasty”??? I admit that I only watched about 10 minutes of one episode before scrambling for the remote. I would have rather watched grass grow than another minute of that insanity. Maybe I should have stayed with it? I cannot imagine what draws anyone to it, so please, enlighten me.

*SIGH* It is only 7:13pm, too early to be sipping wine so I’ll have to stick to a cup of coffee for now.

Sometime in the past year or so, I saw this lovely photo moving around Facebook. At first I found it rather amusing, especially coming out of a divorce and several heart breaks since the end of the 22 year marriage to Lord Voldemort. I had slammed on the breaks in dating and relationship land, vowing to remain single for a full year to rediscover me. I am growing used to the idea that no one keeps me and that would tend to lead any normal person to believe that perhaps they are somehow flawed or unlovable. Or both. Though really, Honey Boo Boo’s mama has a boyfriend…someone is keeping her! Granted, she is likely quite well off with all this reality show life they live so the man would be a fool to toss her aside. Then again, he has to look at her, and be with that woman as she belches and farts on a regular basis and does disgusting things like chews food and then hangs her mouth open to give a view of it all. I may have my flaws, but holy mother of all things real, I’m not that bad!

As if that isn’t enough, today on the commute home, I’m listening to the radio and it is the entertainment news update. The headlines: Honey Boo Boo’s mama and her boyfriend, Sugar Bear, who also happens to be Boo Boo’s baby daddy, GOT MARRIED! In a wedding complete with a camo wedding gown. Someone please tell me that he married her for the money, that she is his sugar mama.

I’m seriously a bit concerned here. Just this weekend I was told I am: sexy, cute as a button, fun, intelligent. And yet I remain single while Honey Boo Boo’s mother is M-A-R-R-I-E-D. Has the world gone off it’s rails entirely????

I can deal with the whole turning 50 in less than 2 weeks, even embracing it to be honest.

I am comfy with the fact that I now view life through bifocal glasses, and that if I get contacts again, for distance, I will need to purchase readers or wear bifocal contacts.

I was even able to find the humor in receiving a temporary AARP card and application in the mail.

What I am struggling with is the idea that me, the woman who loved her husband with every cell of my being, with every part of my heart, that adored the man, still got excited at his touch and butterflies in my stomach when he came home, who is certainly far from ugly or disgusting, yet is adored by men then tossed aside once they have my heart (which by the way is never easily given), is single and seemingly destined to be a crazy cat lady! I did not sign up for this, could someone kindly show me where the customer service desk is, I’d like a refund!

OR maybe, just maybe, the problem is not me?

Maybe I am really the amazing woman I was told that I am by all those men who have since walked away, and it is simply that they cannot handle (read: control) me because I am anything but easy? And therefore, in reality, they were not at all worth it?

Gosh I love that…Mr. Marvi Marti. You see, it is likely that is what you will be known by, as I am just that much of an over powering presence. I tend to out shine, out last, out speak, out love, out argue etc, any man in my life. I am quite a force to be reckoned with, no doubt.

Speaking of “out love any man”, however, yes we DO need to talk about that part at some point and now is as good a time as any, as to date the position is still open for the future Mister. This is because as of now, if someone likes it, they haven’t put a ring on it. You know the song.

Monday marked what would have been my 24th wedding anniversary to Lord Voldemort. Yes, by the way, it is said in fun so just get the hell over it, oh readers who love to run tell him what I write about him. He doesn’t give a rats ass and I say it in complete fun. Sorry, dear ex-hubster, if your “friends” feel the need to report what I write, perhaps it is time to trade them in for ones who respect your ‘claimed’ wishes to not tell you. And SO sorry, future one of mine, I hijack my own posts once in a while, get used to it. I’m told it is A.D.D.

My dear, future spouse, you must accept something very important. I was married for 2 weeks shy of 22 years. In that time I went from loving my spouse, being in love with him, to loving him with every fiber of my being, every cell in me. It didn’t come about over night though. That kind of love grows through many trials and difficulties, and many more happy good times. Nearly losing him 3 times to death grew that love which is why I stayed through the shit storm life seemed to always throw our way. Watching him be a daddy, comforting our children, those sights burned that love into my heart. Supporting him and watching him achieve dreams, it carved him deeper into my heart. Yes, to this day I love that man very much, that will simply not change. True, real love doesn’t die. And that is why the divorce was so painful and still is for me, knowing that the love that I had for him was one sided. He loved me, but not like I loved him. Not with the kind of love that comes from every part of someone, that keeps promises made, the love that never gives up and stays when someone is most unlovable (rest assured he was very unlovable at times and is not the saintly husband some think – and you can bet I can play a tie ball game in that regard). To know that you gave someone your best years, love from the core of your being, only to have them toss it aside like a waded up receipt, that kind of pain you just don’t bounce back from in 2 years time. When I looked up and saw the date, 8/13, I cried all over again. I miss the man that held me when I cried over losses, who snored softly beside me when he slept, who made me laugh at stupid, silly things, was the object of my fantasies, and made me excited just by the sound of him pulling in the driveway. The man who could raise my desire simply by touching me.

That part of my heart is now very much closed. I don’t know that I can ever love on that level again. No, it is not impossible, but it is highly unlikely. Because when you lose the person you loved that much….it is a pain beyond words. It hurt to even breathe. No, it doesn’t hurt quite that badly now, but I’m still pretty raw and vulnerable on those depths. I’m not sure we can love like that more than once in a lifetime. Because self preservation closes those depths in the heart and seals them over. To hurt the deeply more than once…well frankly the thought is unbearable to me.

I can love you, be your best friend, companion, cheer leader. I can and will be faithful, there will be only you if we make a commitment. But the deepest part of my heart is not within anyone’s reach. Even the one I loved that much could never hope to pry that place open again. That is why, should hell freeze over and he ever wanted to patch things up, the answer would be a concrete NO WAY IN HELL. For one, I could never trust him again. And of course, that love I had is locked up so tightly away now, my heart could never freely give it again to someone who threw it away.

I will use everything left in me to love, cherish and adore the man I marry, should I ever go that route again. If that is not enough, then my dear man, I am not the one for you. Keep looking for what you seek and I hope you are able to find it. If you want someone who keeps those promises made in the wedding vows, “through richer or poorer, good times and bad, sickness and in health….” yada yada yada, then please, pursue that road with me. I honor my vows and take them very seriously.

It’s MY heart, and even if I thought I could love on the level again, I don’t know that I would, and that is my right.

Like this:

You may recall that last October I went camping…for the first time in a few decades. I grew up traveling this country by way of camp grounds. I loved it, love the memories, but truly HATE to camp. The Count convinced me to camp this past October, and it actually wasn’t bad! However, I had no desire really to do it again, it would simply have been a family tradition of his so I would have gone along. Thankfully he ditched me.

*Squirrel moment* (that means an ADD driven side thought) – BEST thing the ex-husband, Mr. Wonderful, and the Count did for me was toss me aside. I’d have not known what it was like to be with The Biker otherwise. I have landed such an awesome man now. One who has shown me what weak individuals the Count and all others before him. He encourages me to be ME and loves my very strong personality.

This past weekend I once again found myself on the back of the bike, only this time in the cold and RAIN. Yes, the Marvelous princess rode in the rain this time, well over 100 miles. These guys are 1%ers, hardcore bikers, they ride in the rain. And then…we camped. On the property of another chapter’s club house we pitched tents and campers, and I found out what hypothermia feels like. It was flipping C-O-L-D despite the blankets etc. and I was sleeping alone until about 5am. My legs were cramped from cold, especially when I suddenly had to pee. I nearly gave up trying to pull my boots on to go outside. When I came back it was no better.

The best part? I HAD A FREAKING BLAST! Rain and cold, so what? I spent a good deal of time that night hanging in the club house with the other women, and I might have had a few shots. Actually, okay, I DID, it was anti-freeze you could say, against the coming cold sleeping in a tent. I got a tad out of control at one point, but my honey didn’t handle it the way old Lord Voldemort would have. He pulled me aside, and quietly, lovingly, told me that I needed to dial it down a bit, it wasn’t acceptable in the current location. I was mortified to think I had done anything that would reflect badly on him, darn near cried in fact. But he was all gentleness and love, reassuring me I was fine, and that any other location I could be crazy like I had been. Just not here and not now. The near tears were about more than feeling I disappointed him (which he says not at all) it was also the gentleness of his voice and touch when talking to me. I am not at all used to that. He is not a small man, but a very gentle giant, and that much tenderness shown to me took me apart inside. If you piss him off then heaven help you, but he isn’t easily angered by me at all. In fact he tends to laugh and find my fits entertaining. Unlike the ex-hubby, I can flip off my Biker and he smiles. He doesn’t find it insulting or disrespectful because he knows I’m being funny, he thinks I’m cute as hell when I do it, often replying to it with “who loves ya baby?”.

If it calls me ‘Beautiful’ once, he says it a few dozen times a day!

I am soaking it all up like a sponge as one very starved for true love and REAL affection.

Maybe some women aren’t meant to be tamed. Maybe they’re supposed to run free until they find someone-just as wild- to run with. ~Sex & the City

In my on going search to find that one, special man, who finds me to be that one, special woman, I’m doing a lot of self examination. The past 18 months have been a series of lessons in which I have had to face some things about myself and make some decisions about my life.

As I have mentioned in a previous post, I’m a bit of a free spirit. Okay a lot of one. And like any wild creature, I cannot be tamed. You can clip my wings, cage me and all you will have is a wild bird that will stop singing and will throw myself against my cage bars when frustrated, resulting in explosive exchanges between me and my significant other. Peace and harmony isn’t possible when your spirit is trapped and contained (or worse yet, crushed) when what it needs is to fly free.

I tried very hard for 23 years, 22 of those while married to Lord Voldemort, to live with my wings clipped, existing within a cage that I willingly entered. It didn’t work so well. While I have a submissive nature, I’m still a wild creature that needs my freedom to be ME. After a year in a bible study, The Excellent Wife, and many prayers that seem endless, to have that quiet and gentle spirit, we still butted heads, constantly sometimes. Over the past year and a half I realized that I DO have a quiet and gentle spirit. Unless provoked, then this Taurian will snort, stomp and charge at the source of my agitation with the intent of goring it to pieces with my horns. I become like a bull in a china shop, the end results are never pretty. I cannot entirely fault my ex, or take the blame myself, it is pretty much a 50/50 split. I adored the man, loved him completely and very much wanted to make him happy. But his ability to balance the position of leading me just wasn’t there. Not with someone of as strong a nature as mine at least. I stuck it out and would still be there, because when I commit to someone, it isn’t me that will throw in the towel, I just keep on trying to get it right. Great man, great dad, horribly bad pairing with me.

In order to even begin to coexist with me, my significant other has to be a very strong personality. A natural-born leader. One that understands the balance between leading and dominance. True leaders are able to rule their kingdoms with a firm but gentle hand. It is because they are so well-balanced, fair and honorable that those under their leadership follow readily. They do not rule by fear and lording their position over others. They do not resort to cruelty to gain submission to their authority. Because they are those of such great character that they lead with peace and harmony. I cannot and won’t be subject to a tyrant. My man has to have that balance. Granted, it won’t be perfect all of the time, but the majority of the time. After all we are all human and have our bad days.

If she’s amazing, she won’t be easy to deal with. If she’s easy to deal with, she won’t be amazing. – Love Quote Jones

Most men that I’ve dated or gotten close too have told me I am a wonderful person, amazing, kind, etc. While I am certainly not perfect, I do think I am pretty awesome. But with that comes a very head strong, stubborn, and sometimes difficult woman. I’m…complex, multi-faceted…okay complicated. Think layers, like an onion, to borrow from Shrek. It takes someone special to peel those layers back carefully to learn all my secrets, dreams and fears. It takes a man who is committed and willing to stick to the task. Those are so few and far between there are days I really wonder if I will ever find the one for me.

I’ve loved 3 men, really loved, who I could and would love completely. That I’d give everything in me to make them happy. And I will never completely get over them, they have part of my heart that I cannot get back. One divorced me, one belongs to someone else, and one will forever be a special friend and no more. The last being the strongest personality of the 3, the strongest personality I’ve ever known, and the one I was most drawn too. Anyone of them could wrap my heart and devotion back around their little finger in a minute. The interesting thing is that somewhere deep in my soul, I knew them the minute I saw them. There was instant chemistry, a complete draw. I did not even know Lord Voldemort’s name, the first time I laid eyes on him I just knew I’d be married to him one day. Similar things with the other two men, not that I had a premonition of a commitment, but something inside of me was drawn out and reached toward something inside of them. Chemistry. Something was there that I did not want to live my life without them being a part of it.

I believe when I find the right man, it will be like that again. I will just know immediately, deep down, this is the guy I want to be with, want to make happy, want to share laughter and good moments, the tears and difficult times. Only this time it will be one that wants to keep me, one that wants to share their hopes, dreams, fears and life with me. He’ll understand that I need to be FREE, to be me, my quirky, amazing, wild spirited self. I will be faithful to him, love only him, and live to please him, fully and completely. That one who doesn’t want to live without me being at his side, a part of his life.

Okay this bears asking because, well damn it this is the kind of stuff my life is full of…weird, odd, WTF kind of things.

So, you find a break in your afternoon and decide it is a good time to go check and see if you have any new matches on any of your online dating sites. After all, you want to meet someone and you haven’t had time to check it most of the day.

Grabbing a fresh cup of coffee, you sit down and log in and sure, you have some matches, emails, winks and flirts. After going through all those you decide to run a search and see what potentials exist in your area that maybe you haven’t yet seen. Putting in the criteria you hit enter and a bunch of thumbnail photos with profiles attached come up. And low and behold, there he is…

the one you thought was prince charming

the guy who had a smile that turned you on from across the room

the one you swore you’d go to the ends of the earth for

the man that rocked your world

the father of your children

YOUR EX HUSBAND!!!

So, what exactly is acceptable protocol at this point? Of course you don’t wish to date him, I mean for crying out loud he is an EX for a reason!!!!

X marks the spot.

X is the sign for POISON.

But, assuming you have a terribly warped sense of humor…and you know that I DO….

Is it acceptable to send a *wink* ?????

Just for shits & giggles?

I hope so…cause I DID!

Yes I really did, and hopefully old Lord Voldemort has finally grown a sense of humor.

Recently when I mentioned that I was joining the online dating community, the president of the Marvi Marti fan club, Joe, commented that he for one was looking forward to the posts about this adventure. I hadn’t really thought about blogging it until then, but decided that what the heck, why not. I have no intention of being mean, just going to write about my journey in searching for, not the guy I can live with, as that is settling, but rather the guy I cannot imagine life without. It is a tough standard of achievement, but the bar has been set.

Dating not only allows us to learn about others, but we learn a lot about ourselves in the process. Some things that are new, or that we really weren’t aware of about ourselves, other things we learn just confirm what we knew and sometimes forget.

There is a lot I share about myself within my writings, I am a pretty open book for the most part. My inner child, that soft and vulnerable side of me, remains a secret to nearly everyone. One person I dated got a very good look inside my heart and soul, meeting the real Marti, no masks and completely bare. He didn’t criticize or judge, he approached her slowly and carefully, studying and learning who I really am. He and I would have been the perfect couple, as he allowed me to see the bare and broken, outstanding and wonderful soul inside him, the real him. It is a pretty awesome thing when two souls and hearts can be wide open to each other. But it is not to be, Fate is just cruel. We instead are the very best of friends, talking through our trials and triumphs and helping each other stay balanced. Exactly how a couple should function! Grrrrr…..

One other person began to see ever so slightly through cracks I had foolishly allowed to form in my shell. See, when I fall in love I get careless and the armor cracks some, exposing partial views of that vulnerable part of me. I don’t love easily, and I really regret now how fast I came to trust him and allowed my heart to get involved. He is only the 3rd man I truly felt I have ever really loved. Funny to me is how surprised he seemed by what he saw, guess I do keep myself very well guarded. That person was the man I refer to as Superhero.

I am a very strong woman, in personality, will, determination and focus. I come from a long line of such women. As I wrote once about myself, the women in my family are not survivors, that is passive. We are fighters. My brother referred to me as the family Pit Bull in the past, with good reason. You might knock me down, even knock me out, but I will pull myself back up, brush off, and come out fighting. Push me and I will push back. Hit me and I hit back harder. Push my buttons, go ahead, I will go off on you. I am very passionate as a person, the waters run deep and the current is strong, do not be deceived by the calm appearance of the surface or the tsunami that I am will wash you away. This isn’t just in negative ways, it is all areas of my life and who I am. When I am happy I am really happy. Same can be said for excited, loving, affectionate, etc. I’ve learned to temper the exterior but the undertow can catch folks by surprise. This is why any man in my life has to be made of steel. He has to be a very strong personality himself or I will roll right over the top of him.

The ideal man can reign me in with a few GENTLY spoken words or a glance. Poor Lord Voldemort (the ex hubby), never did have the knack for that. He was a bit of a hurricane himself and while every bit my equal in strength of personality, he tended to lack flexibility with the power.

See, I am every bit the submissive as I am strong. My nature is to yield to my man’s authority. Easy now, my dear feminist sisters, sit back down, deep breath in, exhale slowly and allow me to continue. I am no doormat, not by a long shot. But I personally believe the man is the head of the household by natural order of things. In a relationship that goes serious, I will lean that way, he will have the control. *DISCLAIMER: Until he abuses said position* It takes a lot of courage and inner strength to give up the controls, and let someone else steer the ship. Submission is not for the faint of heart or the weak, or they quickly become victims. And authority to lead a relationship and household should never be given to a man that is weak either, it goes to their heads. It takes a real man to handle the position, one that clearly understands that his position is about doing what is in the best interest of the couple (or family) before himself. He must be very other oriented and not selfish. That is precisely why I keep finding myself with fire fighters or cops, I think. Those jobs are, as a rule, done by men that are strong in will and very other oriented, which is what it takes to put your life on the line for strangers. The trouble with a lot of men that are natural leaders, or dominant types, is they never learn how to balance the position of power against their own desires. And as stated, if I give up that control, and the position is abused, I will come out fighting like a wild animal uncaged. I will protect myself, more so now than ever…push and I push back. Good leaders are followed because of they are indeed good, not because they lord their position over others.

I believe that because I found Mr. Wonderful, there ARE other men of his caliber out there. Few and far between but they exist, he restored my faith. I will find the man I am looking for, and along the way I will share my experiences.

So…that is a bit of a prelude to the dating diaries. Stage set, let the journey begin.

“Life is like playing a violin solo in public and learning the instrument as one goes on.…” ~ Samuel Butler

I wonder if we thought about that daily, how differently we might behave? If we were playing a violin solo, in public view, while learning to play it as we went along, most of us would be diligent to practice, and try very hard to put on a good performance. But in the game of life we don’t always strive to be our best, we often forget who is watching us as we perform.

When my marriage came to an end, it shocked me. I was devastated and really took it very hard. A marriage ending is much a like a death, and there are stages that you go through just like when losing a loved one. In many ways I think it is harder when it is a divorce, as you have to go on and from the background you are forced to watch the other person move on without you. If they wanted out they are off and living their new life, often before you even know the marriage is over, so their present is often your own future. They are going on, you are still picking up the pieces of your heart trying to figure out how to glue them all back together again and just learn to breathe.

As I moved through the grief stages I thought I did a fair job of handling things considering no one handed me the sheet music to play with the announcement or when we filed the paper work. I was expected to play an unfamiliar symphony with no conductor. In many faiths you cannot get married without going to classes. I think classes in how to get divorced would be a great requirement in order to even file the papers to get things started. Anyway I thought I had done a fair job of handling things. That is until the other evening when I made a comment to my daughter about how ugly my brother’s divorce has gotten and how vindictive and mean I’ve learned his ex-wife-to-be has become. My daughter, wise beyond her 20yrs, looked at me and said “you aren’t one to talk”. That brought me up short. I never saw anything I did as being close to the ugliness I see coming from my sister-in-law. But the more I thought about it the more I could see that my kids were impacted by my solo show, regardless of how well I thought I had played.

I could have fought hard and forced the ex to sell the house, and dragged things through court, but while I made a lot of threats in hurt and anger, I didn’t do that. I did send a good number of mean spirited texts and emails to my ex, often threatening to get a lawyer and fight for all I could get, but I didn’t mean them. I never did get a lawyer, never went after anything, I just acted out in emotional turmoil. But what I didn’t take into account was how much my kids would see and know, or how they’d be affected, as I was playing that violin. There were things I said in front of them, and I’m certain there were things their dad shared that he would have been better not too. It really caused some issues and hurt to my daughter that I was being less than kind. Referring to her daddy as “he who shall not be named”, “Lord Voldemort” and assorted other not so nice nick names really did not do much good, they caused her to withdraw from me to the less hostile environment at her daddy’s. My son is more removed in that until last week he didn’t live at home any longer so he was able to stay fairly neutral. He didn’t over hear either his dad or me talking to others or to one another so he wasn’t impacted like his sister. At times I made no attempt whatsoever to play the music, I was too busy bashing the ex virtually over the head with my violin, it wasn’t a very nice performance.

A very wise man that has been through a number of divorces himself, made the comment to me one day that divorces usually turn into drama fests and fights because of those outside of the marriage. The friends and relatives on both sides feed the fires with comments and opinions that would be better left unsaid. They tend to get one side of the story but not both, form an opinion and then pick up their tuba in an effort to enhance the production, influencing their side to go for it all, etc., embellishing the facts or even telling out and out lies, trying to make one side look bad. In the end, it serves no good purpose but to make a bigger mess of an on stage musical that never should have opened the curtains. And in the end, the outcome is not usually changed at all by the fighting and attacks, the courts have a pretty standard method for how things get divided up and doled out. The only parties that hurt are those hearts caught up in the middle, usually the kids. Even in my late 20’s, as my own parents divorce was taking place, I heard remarks made by friends and family members that had taken my dad’s side. I’ve never forgotten those things, and while it is forgiven, I have no desire to be around those that judged and pushed the drama rather than just staying neutral.

As you play your violin solo of life, keep in mind that others are hearing and watching your performance, and often we are unaware of those in the audience. You usually only get one shot at each piece of music you have to play, make sure that you give it your all in such a way that the critics can give you rave reviews. Oh, and don’t try to play your tuba during someone else’s violin solo, trust me you won’t be doing anything to enhance their performance.

As this year comes to a close I’ve been reflecting on all the things that have changed in the landscape of my life over this past 12 months. In hind sight I can see that it was all a blessing but at the time much of it was happening it seemed like anything but for my good. I’ve also been reflecting on things that I want to change in the coming year, more like goals rather than resolutions. Resolutions seem to never be kept but realistic goals often do.

January – And So It Ends: My year began with an ending, the ending of my nearly 22 year marriage and 23 year relationship with my husband. I was still in shock when I made my only post for January, from the announcement he made in the middle of the month that he wanted out and that it was all my fault. Seems he could not deal with my anger issues that I really never accepted had existed up until that point. I don’t for a minute believe that excuse, but I did seek medical help and was diagnosed with a serotonin imbalance that is easily kept in check with medication. It was the beginning of this blog page, as my other one about being a Fire Wife was now obsolete.

March – The shock was wearing off and reality setting in as I felt Homeless within my own house, and not yet part of the household of the Divas.

April – This month saw some realization and a turning point mentally and emotionally for me in my Ah Ha Moment and also seeing myself as aggressive rather than a passive victim, Don’t Call Me A Survivor regarding my circumstances. It was a month of growth inwardly and anticipation of our big move into the new house.

May – The Divas Uncorked life in our new home on the first of the month, and I became a Reformed Cat Hater as I was given a kitten as a heart band-aid. Nurturing and loving her little orphaned self did wonders for me.

June – We saw the end of a local icon, as Touch Down Jesus burned When Something Wicked This Way Came, our first major stormy night at the Diva Den, and I started a weekly post Wine & Cheese Wednesday where I ‘whine’ a bit each week about pet peeves and such. It will return in the new year, I have been taking a break during December from my regular posts.

July – Summer brought about a new attitude in me, and I finally reached the point where I got angry and wrote my reply to my Soon To Be Ex Though Not Soon Enough when he asked why I was so angry at him. I realized then his hold over me had broken. I also had my 100th Blog Post and shared a bit more detail about my wonderful, awesome, perfectly imperfect self.

August –The Ink Was Dry and The Chapter Closed on my marriage with the final hearing and granting of our divorce. Later that day Lord Voldemort, as my now former husband is known in the Diva Den, blocked me from being able to text or call him and the house phone had been disconnected. I also came to realize that the Someone who has made my life worth living for was no one other than myself, another major step toward healing! The very end of the month, the final weekend, Mr. Wonderful/TSASA (Twisted Steel And Sex Appeal) walked back into my life and so began my learning to eat my words about never loving again.

September – I made some decisions about my life in determining only to allow those Who Are Willing To Ride The Bus with me when my limo is broken down to get close to me from now on. I also had one last major confrontation with the ex, at which point I realized, I DIRECT MY LIFE NOW and I really don’t give a flying frog’s butt what he thinks.

October – As Autumn had set in it became Time For Some Pruning in my life, and a follow up Landscaping Of My Life, as while I had already removed the sinful, dark parts of my life I needed to finish off the final traces of that way of life as I began moving closer to my return to a right path in life.

November – I faced head on The Monster Within me and accepted the harsh reality that I cannot drink alcohol, especially on my medication which intensified the issues, and not cause serious damage to the relationships around me. I have not had a drink since Thanksgiving, don’t crave or miss it, and in fact over all feel much better.

December – And this month has ushered in many changes for me in going ‘home’ where All Is Right In My World, how I’d plan out my Last Meal if given the chance, enjoying my ongoing relationship with Mr. Wonderful, and now facing the unknown ahead as my mother’s cancer has returned. I’ve been embraced by my church family, have a mentor of sorts in my wonderful friend, Jane, who keeps me accountable and prays for me and my feet are back on the firm foundation of my Savior.

My Goals For The Coming Year

I have set a few goals that I hope are realistic for this coming year.

*Beginning 1/1/11 I will make every effort to avoid mentioning my ex-husband in my blogs, and if it is necessary will try to make it as positive and brief as possible. I must thank him for setting me free, as I’ve gotten to know me all over again, found someone very special that thinks I am pretty incredible even with all of my flaws, and I found out that there is a better life outside of the palace. This will thrill the diaper off Lord Voldemort as he actually calls my mommy to tell on me when I post something he doesn’t like! Comical isn’t it? He needs to grow up and grow a pair very badly and try talking to me (not cussing a blue streak but COMMUNICATING like an adult). I’m 47yo, I’ll post what I want, when I want, you lost the right to tell me what to do on 1/15/10 when you asked for a divorce. ::raises my glass:: here is to hoping karma continues to chomp your butt as it has since I moved out, and that you grow up some day, little boy. *CHEERS* (okay NOW I feel better and will pray it doesn’t keep chomping)

*I have a goal to focus on the health of my soul, feeding it by being at church for both services on Sundays, the mid-week prayer meeting, and be in the Word daily for feeding my soul and memorizing passages. I revamped my other blog page into a positive place for my Spiritual Journey, taking something dark and sinful and making it honoring to God.

*I fully intend to allow this relationship with Mr. Wonderful to bloom and grow at its own pace, doing it RIGHT this time, and keeping it Christ centered. We may not always do it right, but my goal is to strive for that.

*And to take better care of myself, start walking at least every other day, and drink 64 ounces of water a day.